


We'll See

by ReedBalloon



Category: Carmilla - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Child Abuse, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 15:03:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7806496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReedBalloon/pseuds/ReedBalloon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> “We can get divorced in twelve months.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“We’ll see,”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Laura narrowed her eyes dangerously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m going to make you fall in love with me.” </i>
</p>
<p>Laura and Carmilla get married one drunken night. Carmilla sees the year until divorce as a way to win Laura's heart. Laura disagrees</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_The day after the wedding_

The world was bright, and she knew that when she opened her eyes it was only going to get brighter. Her head hurt with that ache that can only mean too much alcohol and not enough sleep, and she severely hoped that whatever she smelt wasn’t something dead.

Laura forced her eyes open and was rewarded with the view of a white ceiling and the full force of her regret. She then became aware of the other body in her bed, and threw herself across the hotel room, wrapping the sheet around her as she did so, leaving a very naked stranger to groan against her pillow. A bare back faced Laura from the sheet, which meant that as the stranger was turning around she would see...

"Fuck." Laura turned her eyes back to the ceiling.

The stranger opened one eye and observed Laura, now wrapped in the king sized sheet and determinedly looking anywhere but the bed. "Hello."

"What happened last night?"

"Well my memories a bit fuzzy, but I can hazard a guess based on context."

"You're naked."

"While you are wearing that very fetching sheet."

"Can you not be naked?"

"You're standing by where I keep my clothes."

"The desk chair?"

"That’s the one."

Laura blindly picked up whatever she first grabbed and threw it at the stranger, quickly becoming aware that this wasn't her hotel room.

She swore again, which just earned her an even wider grin.

"Relax, cupcake." She seemed to be having far too much fun watching Laura look anywhere that wasn’t in the vicinity of the bed. "These things happen. And anyway, I’m pretty sure I know you from somewhere, so it’s not like you spent a night of debauchery in Vegas with a complete stranger."

"How are those clothes coming along?"

"All put on, thanks for asking."

Finally removing her eyes from the ceiling, Laura found she did recognise whoever was in her bed.

"You're Perry's friend."

"Carmilla. And you're Laf's."

Laura nodded.

"As I said, not complete strangers then."

"Can I take a pick from your clothes chair?"

"Go right ahead."

"If you don't turn away while I change you're going off the balcony."

Carmilla chuckled and directed her grin to the ceiling.

"I'm going to go," Laura said.

"So soon?"

"This is weird."

"You looked better in the sheet."

Laura made no response as she left, just an ineffective glare that made Carmilla laugh. The laughing only increased when she looked at her left hand, and she nearly fell off the bed when Laura burst back in, looking at the own hand like it was on fire

For the third time within fifteen minutes, Laura loudly swore.

//

"I can't believe you're going to be living in the same city as me."

"Perry's firm offered me a contract. That's why we were here in the first place."

"I can't believe we got married."

"You're going to great lengths to dispute things that are true."

"And now you're in the same city."

"I like to think of it as fate."

"Or karmic punishment."

"Now is that any way to talk to your wife?"

"We're going to a divorce lawyer as soon as we get back."

"Whatever you say, shnookums."

"I hate you so much."

"Now we sound like we're married."

//

_Eleven months and twenty seven days until divorce_

“Twelve months.”

Laura stormed ahead, leaving Carmilla to slouch behind her. She was grinning widely, even taking the time to nod pleasantly at strangers, an exercise she never normally bothered with.

“Eleven months and twenty seven days.”

“It’s a year.”

“Nearly a year.”

Laura rounded on her, and Carmilla stopped, the grin never fading.

“Why did you tell him we consummated the marriage?”

“Can’t lie to a judge, cupcake.”

“But did you have to say it was the best thing since sliced bread?”

“I was talking about the prostitute. Take the compliment.”

“We can get divorced in twelve months.”

“We’ll see,”

Laura narrowed her eyes dangerously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you still want to divorce me.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m going to make you fall in love with me.”

“That sounds creepy.”

“I’m going to gently coerce you to fall in love with me.”

“I don’t know how anyone could fall in love with you.”

“That’s what my mother said. And now look at me. Married to a beautiful woman.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Nope.”

“We get divorced in eleven months and twenty seven days.”

“We’ll see.”

“Stop saying that.”

Laura flounced on ahead, and Carmilla watched her go, only smiling more when she flipped her off over her shoulder.

//

_Eleven months and twenty five days_

Carmilla waited for her friends’ laughter to die down. She had expected this from Danny and Kirsch, but the fact that Perry was joining in made her scowl.

“Can you stop,” she complained, as it became evident that they had no intention of doing so.

“Sorry.” Danny didn’t sound even remotely sorry. “It’s just the idea of you. Married.”

“Why do I even put up with you two?”

“Because they give us free alcohol?” offered Perry.

Carmilla clicked her fingers. “That’s it.”

The four of them were in the bar Danny and Kirsch owned. It was after closing, so empty, and they had enough whisky on the table to keep them occupied for the evening. An innocent question of “So what’s new, Karnstein?” had caused Carmilla to reveal her new marriage, and her friends had yet to stop laughing.

“Dude, how did this even happen?”

“Good question, Kirsch.” Carmilla turned to glare at Perry, who held up her hands in innocence.

“When I asked if you wanted to come to Vegas with me and Lafontaine and their friend, I didn’t expect you to marry her.” Perry had discovered about her friends accidental marriage by Laura’s frantic knocking on her and Lafontaine’s door. Carmilla’s laughter could be heard in the distance.

“Did you ask or did she?”

“I don’t know, Danny, that’s the problem with tequila.”

“And now you have to wait a year.”

The laughter was back, and Carmilla was resolutely avoiding Perry’s eye. Apparently ‘accidently’ sabotaging their plea for divorce didn’t impress her friend.

“So what are you going to do?” asked Kirsch

“Yes, Carmilla.” Carmilla focused on the bottle of whiskey, ignoring Perry. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to woo her. Danny I swear if you don’t stop laughing I’m using the whiskey bottle on you.”

//

“This is a disaster.”

Laf smiled at Laura flopping herself down on their couch, covering her eyes with her arm.

“At least you’re not being dramatic.” They dodged a throw pillow launched their way. “I think there’s a valuable lesson to be learned here.”

“I hate you.”

“I didn’t know, when you said you were going to spend time with Carmilla, that you meant the rest of your life.”

“Laf, please.”

“Oh it’s not that bad. You don’t have to technically do anything.”

“But I’ll be married.”

“Yes.”

“To her.”

“She’s rich.” Lafontaine offered.

“For a year.”

“It’s not that long.”

Laura groaned again.

“I blame you.”

“I blame tequila.”

“How rich are we talking?”

“You know those pricks on those rich kid shows with the yachts and the parties?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“That rich?”

“And half of it’s yours.”

Lafontaine laughed as another pillow was thrown their way and Laura tried to smother herself with the sofa.

//

_Eleven months and nineteen days_

A knocking at the door woke Laura. She checked the bed next to her for strangers, as she had taken to doing the last few weeks, and, satisfied she hadn't made another mistake, she dragged herself to her apartment door.

Carmilla's smirk greeted her when she opened it, accompanied by a brown paper bag held aloft. Laura closed the door instantly.

"I brought breakfast." Carmilla’s smugness apparently transcended closed doors.

"Go away, Carmilla."

"I didn't get coffee, because I figured you'd have some, but I did get a variety if pastries."

"Please."

"I figured you would go for something sugary, but since you never did stay for breakfast after our wedding night, I had to guess what else it is you eat."

Laura threw open the door, hoping the neighbours were kind enough to not eavesdrop.

"Are you going to hang around until I let you in?"

"Yep."

Laura closed the door. Carmilla grinned wider, sinking to the floor next to the door and opening the bag.

"So I got croissants, the lady at the bakery said almond is all the range these days, but I don't know if she was lying." Her voice travelled to where Laura was standing by the kitchen counter, trying to ignore it. "I also got some pastry things filled with cream and chocolate on the top that I don't know the name of."

"Eclairs."

"Who's Claire?"

"Carmilla I swear..."

Carmilla continued. "I have four donuts of different flavours, partly because I don't know what you'd like, and also because they were four for two, so technically I'm saving money."

The door flew open and she looked up to see Laura glaring down at her. "If I let you in will you shut up?"

"Probably not."

Laura huffed, but stepped away from the door. Carmilla followed her inside, placing the bag on the kitchen counter and taking a seat.

"Got any coffee?"

"Why are you doing this?" Laura moved to the kitchen.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, or so I hear."

"Carmilla."

"I told you, I'm going to make you fall in love with me."

"I'm not going to do that."

"We'll see."

//

_Eleven months and thirteen days_

"Do you have any fears?"

"What?"

"Fears, cupcake. Things you're afraid of."

"Why?"

"It’s called small talk."

"Clowns. Geese. When candles burn too close to the end."

"Seriously?"

"It makes me nervous. Stop laughing."

"Aren't you going to ask about my fears?"

"Carmilla, do you have any fears?"

"Small spaces. Loud noises. That you won’t fall in love with me in eleven months and thirteen days."

"Smooth."

"Thanks."

//

_Ten months and twenty two days_

To Carmilla's delight and Laura's anguish, they developed a routine. Carmilla would arrive at Laura's door in the morning with breakfast, and Laura would be forced to eat it with her, or else treat the neighbours to Carmilla carrying a conversation with herself from the hallway. After bringing the pastries, Carmilla invested in things she deemed healthy, as she "didn't want to be responsible for you developing some form of scurvy". Bran flakes and fruit didn't help Carmilla integrate herself into Laura's good favours.

"You know," said Carmilla one morning, in a tone that Laura knew meant she was in for a conversation, "I don’t know that much about you."

"That's not an accident."

"Tell me about your parents. My in-laws. Our family."

"Stop it."

It was the smirk, Laura had decided a while ago. She was sure some found it charming, and it fast became apparent Laura was not one of them.

"You're cocky." Laura had told her once.

"I'm confident. Endearing, is it not?”

Laura had decided that no, it wasn't

She sighed as she took her place opposite Carmilla on the kitchen counter and gave her the coffee, skilfully ignoring any domesticity this presented.

"Why?" she asked.

"Do you remember me telling you about small talk?"

"You don't seem the type for small talk. You read Camus and quote Aristotle. It’s pretentious."

"Maybe I'm making an exception."

Laura studied her, with that damn smirk and those damn eyes. Sometimes she wished her wife didn't look how she did. Thank god her personality put her off so much.

"My mom left when I was twelve. I don't know why, I was waiting for her to pick me up from school and she just never showed. All her stuff was gone by the time my dad picked me up. It's been the two of us ever since. Which is fine. More than fine. I mean sometimes I wish there was more, but I wouldn't change it for the world. He's great, a little protective, but that's understandable. I would rather a parent who cared too much then one who didn't care at all, you know."

Carmilla did, being intimately acquainted with the latter. She waited to see if Laura would speak again.

"He calls every other day, and visits when he can. If anything happens in his day, anything even remotely small, I'm the first person he tells. I miss my mom, but if she didn't want us then that's fine."

Carmilla waited a beat, but it seemed she was done.

"Wow, cupcake, I think that’s the most words you've ever said to me."

Laura shrugged and busied herself with an orange.

"And your parents?" she relented, when the silence dragged on.

"Not much to tell. My father died when I was four, don't remember him too much. My mother is less than nice. But I'm rich."

"You've mentioned that."

"It's one of my selling points."

"Your mother," Laura prompted.

The smirk became more solemn, causing Laura to pay attention.

"I learnt from very young that my mother is either incapable of love, or didn't feel like extending it to me."

"Carm..."

"My tragic backstory is not one of my selling points, cupcake, so don't feel too sorry for me. I have two siblings, and we loved each other. I wasn't lonely. Sad, but not lonely."

"And now?"

"Now what."

"Are you sad?"

"To not have felt pain is to not have been human."

"See. Pretentious. And not an answer."

"Now you see why I'm such a good lawyer."

"Carmilla."

"Have you told your dad that you're a married woman?"

Laura noted the swift conversation change and went with it.

"God no."

"You think you can keep it secret for a year?"

Laura narrowed her eyes. The smirk was back and distant look in her eyes was gone, and that did not make Laura feel comfortable.

"Don't you dare do anything."

"Like what? Get Perry to find out from Lafontaine that he's going to visiting in eight days, so plan on coming over unannounced to introduce myself, your wife, to your dad, my father-in-law."

"Ten months and twenty two days."

"We'll see."

//

_Ten months and fifteen days_

“Perry, please do this for me.”

“I’m not comfortable with this, Carmilla. And you said you needed me for an emergency.”

“This is my wife we’re talking about.”

Carmilla leaned towards her friend, hands splayed on the desk, but Perry just looked doubtful.

“Just ask Laf where Laura is taking her father for dinner tomorrow. Please.”

“Why can’t you find out yourself?”

“Because I may have exposed my plan and now she’s taking him to some restaurant and she won’t tell me which one.”

“Carmilla, why are you doing this?”

Carmilla sighed. That was a question that cropped up a lot recently. Especially from Laura, who, for all her protesting, Carmilla had noticed with fervent hope, had yet to completely dismiss Carmilla from her life.

“I still have ten months. It’s a working progress, but if I get in with the dad she obviously adores, I’ll be further there.”

“There being?”

“Laura not divorcing me.”

“Why do you care so much?”

Another question Laura had asked her. Carmilla could have told her it was because she found Laura captivating, and fascinating, and wanted to spend as much time with her as possible that wasn’t obsessive. Instead she had just grinned, and Laura had huffed.

“You know, the list of people I can stand to spend and extended amount of time with had three names on. Two of them are related to me, and the other one is you. Now there are four, and Lafontaine is really close to making it as well.”

“They’ll be thrilled.”

“Use it as a way to get them to tell you.”

“Carmilla.”

“I honestly believe she’ll fall for me. And this isn’t just me being cocky.”

“You know you can’t sleep with anyone else if you want to stay married.”

“I can give celibacy a whirl.”

“This is all very unlike you.”

Perry was concerned about her friend, but in all honesty that wasn’t anything new. Ever since college she seemed to spent a great portion of her time worried about Carmilla.

“Fine. I’ll ask.”

“You’re the best.”

“I feel like I’m deceiving them.”

“We’re lawyers, if we didn’t deceive people we’d be out of a job.”

“This isn’t what I had in mind when I said I would like it if you worked here.”

Carmilla grinned broadly. “As I keep saying. It’s fate.”

//

“It’s insufferable.”

“I get it, but it’s not the plates fault. You’re gonna break it if you keep stabbing it like that.”

Laura paused before she could spear the pancake, catching Lafontaine’s amused look at her distress.

“I’m not sensing the waves of sympathy I should feel from my best friend.”

“That’s because I have no sympathy to give you.”

Lafontaine had found it hilarious that she had married their girlfriend’s best friend, and seeing Laura so wound up only increased this. Perry had found it less funny, seemingly concerned for the effect it may have on Carmilla, but Lafontaine still couldn’t shake the image of Laura, open mouthed, staring at her left hand like she didn’t recognise it.

“It’s every day, Laf. Every morning she just shows up, with her stupid smirk and her stupid eyes and the stupid attempt at making me eat at least slightly healthy.”

“What wrong with her eyes?”

“Nothing. That’s part of the problem.”

“What?”

“How could you let me do this?”

Blame for the impulsive marriage had been shifted, briefly, onto Lafontaine before they had politely reminded Laura that they could never distract her from an idea when she was sober, never mind after five hours of tequila.

“She brings you free breakfasts and walks you to work, I’m not seeing the reason for all the huffing. Look, I know Carmilla can be a bit snarky, and sarcastic, and occasionally – very occasionally – a huge asshole. But she’s not that bad.”

“You’re saying I should, what, go along with it and see if she can complete this stupid goal of making me fall in love with her?”

“I’m saying maybe chill a bit. She brings you pastries and fruit, she doesn’t leave figurines of herself made out of your hair.”

“Gross.”

“Have you ever asked her to stop?”

Laura paused her desecration of the pancakes and crockery. “What?”

“Have you ever asked her to not bring you breakfast? In the past month and a half this had been happening.”

In truth she hadn’t, but that was going to the part of her brain that also wondered why she had coffee ready for when Carmilla arrived. It’s not like she hadn’t hinted to it, in an indirect, thinly veiled kind of way, but just never said the words.

“She seems set on doing it.”

“She’d stop.” Lafontaine watched their friend carefully, Laura now frozen mid-spear.

“You think so?”

“Know for a fact. If you told her you didn’t want her to come, she wouldn’t.”

Laura thought about this. Mornings back to herself. No Carmilla, with her smirk and eyes and concern about Laura’s wellbeing.

“All I have to do is ask.”

“Communication is key in a marriage.”

“Don’t make me hate you.”

//

“Does this usually work for you?”

“What?”

“The smirk and the lines and the eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“Your eyes.”

“Usually.”

“Must be how you tricked me into marrying you.”

“Pretty sure you asked me, cupcake.”

“Nu-huh.”

“Nice argument.”

“You definitely asked me.”

“Do I strike you as the type to marry? What with my smirk and my lines and my eyes.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Ten months and fourteen days_

“I can’t believe Laf sold me out.”

“In their defence, I don’t think they’re very good at denying Perry something when she asks.”

Laura glared at Carmilla, who sat opposite her, before glancing to ensure her father was still at the bar ordering them food. She had purposefully not told Carmilla where she was taking her dad, only to have her turn up anyway, introducing herself as Laura’s friend, and her father, her kind welcoming father, asks that she joins them.

“You better not tell him we got married.”

“I think he’d be thrilled. He likes me.”

“That’s because you’re being uncharacteristically charming.”

“I’m always charming. You’re just determined not to see it.”

“Carmilla.”

“Relax, cupcake. I won’t tell him.”

Her dad returned a moment later, having placed their food orders. As they chatted, Laura watched her father and wife interact, and though she loathed to admit it, it really did seem like her dad liked Carmilla. She made him laugh, and actually listened to the stories he told, that even Laura, who had all the love in the world for her father, found terribly uninteresting.

He asked about her family, and Carmilla’s smirk dropped and her eyes developed that distant look they often did when conversation headed that way, and Laura deftly moved it on. If she glanced at Carmilla to check that she had that small smile back, and received a grateful nod in return, she was quick to ignore it.

As they walked home, they passed Carmilla’s building, and Laura told her father to carry on a moment while she walked Carmilla to her door.

“He totally likes me.”

“Please shut up.”

But Laura was smiling when she said it, and Carmilla grinned back.

“Sorry I crashed your father-daughter time.”

“No you’re not.”

“No I’m not.”

She went to turn away, but Laura called her back.

“Hey, Carm.” Laura’s smile had dropped, and she was frowning slightly. Carmilla ignored the urge to poke fun at her to make her smile again, and listened. “If I asked you to stop bring me breakfast, would you?”

Laura ignored the flicker of hurt in Carmilla’s eyes and sudden tension in her body. The smirk was gone, and instead she looked troubled. When she spoke it was small and hurt. “If that’s what you wanted, then yes. Of course I would.”

“Okay.”

“So you want me to stop?”

“No.” Laura wasn’t even surprised by her response. Breakfasts without Carmilla didn’t really seem feasible anymore.

“Laura, I’m confused.”

“I don’t want you to stop bringing me breakfast. I just wanted to know that if I did, you would.”

“So breakfast is still on?”

“Yes. Maybe not tomorrow, my dad will still be here and I won’t tell him who you are until we’re divorced in ten months and fourteen days.”

“We’ll see.”

“Goodbye Carmilla.”

“Bye cutie.”

Laura waited to watch as Carmilla entered her building. She decided she wouldn’t mention seeing her click her heals together before ascending the stairs.

//

"Aw, cupcake, this is so sweet."

"Don't read anything into this, Carmilla."

"Coming to look after me when I'm ill."

"Only because if you die I'll have to start paying for breakfast."

//

_Nine months and twenty eight days_

"The janitor doesn't care that you’re my wife, Carm."

"He asked me how I am."

"Married and sexually sated is not an answer."

"Says you."

"And I'm not sexually sating you, so maybe you should bug whoever is."

"Oh, cupcake, you're the only one for me."

She sat down at the table in the break room at Laura's work, smiling up at her.

"Anyway, I was just passing by."

"We're twenty minutes from anywhere you work, live, or drink."

"Fine, I walked twenty minutes out of my way to see you, but I brought Subway."

"Did you sneak salad onto it again?"

"Yes. Lettuce won’t kill you, but nutritional deficiency might."

The lettuce didn't stop Laura from attacking the sandwich.

"Who shat in your cheerios?"

"Excuse me?"

"You seem blue."

"It's just this story." Laura glared at the offending file. "It's a really good one about a really bad guy, but I can't publish it because I don't have any reliable sources." The air quotes around the last two words made Carmilla smile. "And the newspaper doesn't want to get sued."

"Those bastards."

"So unfair."

"Can I?" She opening the file and started reading. "Embezzlement? Dumbing crap into the ocean?"

"He's killing the whales."

"Not the whales." Carmilla mock gasped.

"This is serious."

Carmilla smiled at Laura's scrunched up face. If she didn't look so cute when she was annoyed Carmilla might spent less time causing it.

"I can help. I am a lawyer, you know."

"You've mentioned."

"I can look into it. See if anyone will talk. Find you that allusive reliable source. It’s amazing how many people are happy to speak when you throw around words like impeachment and interfering."

"You don't have to."

"But I'm offering.”

Some help is what Laura desperately needed, and it wasn't that she didn't trust Carmilla, she just didn't want her first major story to be because her accidental wife is a big shot lawyer.

"Look, Laura." Carmilla could sense her unease. "I can just look into it, ask around, nothing might come of it, and if something does you can decide what to do then."

"Only if you're sure."

"I wouldn't offer if not."

"Thanks, Carm."

"See, I'm not totally terrible."

"Not totally."

"I feel like we're bonding."

"Is anyone sexually sating you?"

"Jealous, cutie?"

"Just want to know who I should warn."

//

_Nine months and twenty days_

As far as Carmilla was concerned, it has been going well. She and Laura were getting on, so far she had avoided cheating on her not-wife, and she finally felt like things were coming together.

Then her mother rang, having found out about Carmilla’s marriage from rumours running around the firm. It was sloppy work, in Carmilla’s opinion, that her mother only found out now, two and a half months later. That, or she had been waiting for the opportune moment to use this, and getting her daughter and wife to attend a party at Carmilla’s old house was the perfect one.

Carmilla exhausted a lot of time trying to figure out her angle, and had no idea. It was to be surprises all round.

Convincing Laura to attend had taken less effort than she expected. She had arrived for breakfast, the normal smirk and remark absent, and Laura had felt the tug in her chest whenever Carmilla looked anything less than fine. She had decided that there were few people in the world who deserved nothing but good, and Carmilla was one of them, though she found it hard to pinpoint exactly when that became the case.

The familiar distance in her face and eyes whenever her mother came up made Laura agree instantly to accompany Carmilla to whatever it was her mother had planned.

When she saw the dress Laura was going to wear Carmilla decided the visit may be worth whatever her mother wanted from her.

Getting to her old house required a four hour plane ride. Carmilla had sat dead still all flight, barely responding to Laura, who had even let slip a few innuendos in the hope it would cause some sort of response.

Things hadn’t been perfect, but it had been good, and Carmilla should have realised that that was enough of an angle for her mother.

“Carm?” Laura’s voice floated to the loft. “It’s a big house. If you’re here I’d like a hint.”

Carmilla squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her head to her knees. She knew hiding in a loft wasn’t something a supposedly grown-up lawyer should do, but this loft was her safe place. It was her, and her brother, and her sister’s safe place. She hated this house, every part of it, except for this loft.

She could hear the sound of bedroom doors being opened, and Laura complaining under her breath. Despite the strain on her chest and mind, Carmilla called out softly.

Laura found the ladder, and sat next to Carmilla in the spacious loft.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Carmilla looked small, wrapped up in herself like that, and Laura longed to comfort her somehow, but had noticed how little Carmilla initiated contact. For all her comments and flirting, she had never so much as tried to hug Laura. She settled for shifting so that their arms were touching.

“What brings you here?” she asks carefully. The sounds of the party happening downstairs were non-existent.

“I used to come here, when things got too bad. Even now the smell of damp and rotting wood fills me with a sense of calm. How did you find it?”

“Your brother told me where you might be. He’s running interference with your mother.”

“Bet he loves that.”

“I heard what she said to you.”

“Laura.”

“She’s wrong.”

Carmilla pressed her head into her knee again. Her cheek stung from where her mother had struck her for her insolence, in that back room away from the party, and that sensation was almost as familiar as the smell of damp.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does, Carmilla. If you believe those things, then it does. You’re nothing like what she said, okay. You worked for where you got. I’ve seen you.”

“Laura, please.”

“You are a good person. I know I give you a hard time, but I do truly believe that you are good.”

Carmilla looked at her with shining eyes. “I’m sorry I dragged you here.”

“I’m sorry you had to come here at all.”

“She meant it when she said she could destroy me. Keep mother happy, that’s what we do.”

“I’m going to write such a scathing article on her when we’re divorced in nine months and twenty days.”

That dragged a smile out of Carmilla, and Laura beamed back. She was barely visible in the limited light, but to Carmilla she had never looked more beautiful.

“We’ll see.”

“Your sister said we can leave whenever we want.”

“Can we stay for a little?”

“I’m going to hug you.”

Carmilla leant into Laura as her arms encircled her.

“I don’t have many people who come looking for me.”

Lips pressed against her forehead and stayed there, and Carmilla’s chest felt a little less tight.

//

_Nine months and six days_

“I’m going to tell you something, and if you sound in any way smug I’m hanging up.” Laura’s voice from the telephone in her office made Carmilla smile.

“Hello to you too, cutie.”

“Carmilla.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“And?”

“Totally devoid of smugness.”

Laura made a sound indicating she didn’t believe her, but spoke anyway. “My dad is in town today and has asked if you could join us for lunch.”

“Really?” Carmilla beamed.

“That sounded smug.”

She schooled her expression. “Really?”

“Better.”

“So he did like me.”

“We’re meeting at two.”

“Are you going to tell him we’re married?”

“Would rather burn my fingertips off.”

“Graphic.”

“Been spending too much time with Laf.”

“So two?”

“If you’re late we’re leaving without you.”

“I won’t be late.”

//

“You know it’s funny, for some reason I thought you came to see me, and not Carmilla.”

“Oh hush.”

Her father smiled at her, and Laura grinned back. Carmilla had been late, texting that court had ran over – which Laura didn’t believe and thought she only sent that to sound fancy – and was meeting them at Danny and Kirsch’s bar.

“I like her.”

“Please don’t tell her that.”

“So you two are just friends?”

Laura could answer that with “actually, dad, we’ve been married for three months, and she’s taken it upon herself to make me fall in love with her” but instead went with “Yes, and please don’t tell me that’s why you wanted her to come.”

He waved a hand. “Of course not. You just seemed more open with her here, that’s all.”

“I’m plenty open.”

“You’re practically a tin can.”

“An open one.”

“Hey, L.” Kirsch arrived, grinning, to their table with their drinks. “Where’s the misses?”

“Kirsch,” Laura snapped in warning. He cast a glance to Laura’s dad, who was looking at her with raised eyebrows, before mouthing sorry and quickly slipping away.

“How’s work?” her father asked, kindly offering Laura an out.

She was telling him about the Vordenberg problem she was having when Carmilla approached them.

“Sorry,” she said, smiling at them both, “Court ran over.”

“Is that code for you spilt something and Perry had to rescue you?”

“You know me so well, cutie.”

She signalled to the bar for a drink (Danny signalled back with the middle finger), then sat next to Laura, greeting her father warmly. He’d gone from Mr Hollis to Michael, and Laura was dejected by this. They did the obligatory “How’re things?” “Things are fine,” before settling into conversation.

Their plates were being cleared when her father lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Laura watched him for a moment, half listening to whatever Carmilla was saying, before nudging him under the table with her foot.

“Dad?” she prompted, causing Carmilla to stop, “Everything okay?”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Do you need me to go?” Carmilla asked.

“No, it’s fine. Laura, I know you’re not going to like this, but hear me out, okay?”

“Kinda worrying me, dad.” Carmilla curling her hand around Laura’s beneath the table calmed her thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just been making some changes. I’m going to sell the house and move to something smaller, something still nearby, but just something a bit more appropriate.”

Laura was silent, and Carmilla could feel her grip tighten. She watched her from the side to see her jaw was clenched.

“And I know you don’t want to do this,” her father continued. “But you need to look through your old stuff. Find what you want to keep and what we can donate or throw. Laura.” Laura’s eyes snapped from the table and looked at him. “I know it’s hard, but it’s time.”

The scraping of Laura’s chair as it was thrown back made them all jump. She pulled her hand from Carmilla’s and went for the exit, leaving Carmilla to look after her, confused.

“What was that?”

“Go after her,” he pleaded. “Bring her back.”

Carmilla nodded, heading for the door, shrugging at Danny’s puzzled look at she passed. She found Laura sitting on a shop step, and carefully sat down next to her.

“Hey.” she said.

“Hey.”

They lapsed into silence, Carmilla fiddling with her hands and wondering how to approach this. Laura looked angry, not close to tears like Carmilla feared. Anger, she could deal with. Sadness was a whole different thing.

“So,” she ventured, “Want to tell me what that was about?”

“Sorry.”

“Why don’t you want him to sell the house?”

“It’s not that.”

“Seemed that way.”

Laura chose her words carefully, thought how best to tell Carmilla without seeming like she hadn’t quite gotten over the childhood trauma of being abandoned. She hadn’t, but Carmilla didn’t need to know that.

“I don’t care about the house,” she said, “It’s just going to be hard going through my old stuff.”

“Because of your mother?” She knew it was, but posed it as a question anyway.

“Yeah. When I left for college I just kind of left everything where it was. In the attic, in my room, I’m pretty sure there’s even stuff in the basement.”

“You’re allowed to be upset over your mother leaving.”

“It’s been twelve years. Don’t you think I should be over it by now?”

Carmilla smiled ruefully. “Two weeks ago you found me hiding in a loft because my mother said some mean things.”

“That’s different.”

“There’s no ‘should’ here. There’s just how you feel.”

“I shouldn’t have ran away from my dad.”

“Okay, yeah, there’s one ‘should’.” Laura smiled at that, and Carmilla grinned, glad to have caused it. “Do you think that’s why he invited me, he knew you’d do that and he’s getting too old to run after you?”

“I thought you said it was because he liked you.”

“People can have two reasons.”

“Let’s go back.”

She hugged her dad when she returned, and he told her how much he loved her. Carmilla slinked over to the bar as they sat down and talked.

//

“Carmilla, you have a cat?”

“My neighbour has a cat. I feed it when he goes away, and he doesn’t play music until late.”

“What’s its name?”

“Cheddar? Mozzarella? Camembert? I don’t know. Its cheese related.”

“It’s so small.”

“Are you crying?”

“It’s so small.”

//

_Eight months and twenty eight days_

"Who's Ell?"  
  
The question blindsided Carmilla, almost making her choke on her croissant. It was Sunday, meaning she brought over the pastries instead of her usual attempt at getting Laura to consume something that wasn't mainly sugar. Laura waited patiently while Carmilla dislodged the breakfast from her throat.

She took a long gulp of juice. "What?"

"Ell. Who is she?"

"How do you know that name?"

"Your mother mentioned it."

"Three weeks ago."

"I've been biding my time."

"An ex. Sort of."

"An ex?"

"Sort of."

Laura looked at her in a way to continue. Carmilla chewed slowly on a donut.

"We were fourteen and went to the same high school. She hated her father about as much as I hated my mother, so that was quite a bonding point. While my mother expected me to go to Harvard, because that’s where all Karnstein’s go, Ell's father expected her to leave school at sixteen and go into the family business."

"What was the family business?"

"Meat. The packaging if it."

"Exciting."

"Ell didn't want that." Carmilla played with her coffee as she spoke, not having thought about those times in a while. "She wanted to do something. She wanted Harvard, and stuffy prestige, while I wanted nothing to do with that life."

"You didn't want Harvard?"

Carmilla shook her head. "My sister's the ambitious one. I didn't want the stress."

"You're a lawyer." Laura pointed out.

"That’s Perry's fault. Always going on about potential in college and how I should reach it. You know how she is."

"Supportive?"

"Terrible, isn't it."

Laura waited while Carmilla distracted herself with breakfast, occupying herself with her own food to take the pressure off.

"Anyway, we talked about this, how I was basically getting everything she wanted, and would give it all up if I could. I thought she would resent me for it, but she wasn't like that. So we came up with a plan. The Callahan's weren't wealthy people, and as far as my mother is concerned Karnstein’s only consort with wealthy people."

"No wonder she doesn't like me."

"One if many reasons."

"So you had a plan?"

Carmilla nodded. "We dated, or at least pretended to. I liked Ell, but not in that way. It made my mother furious, which I paid for, but that isn't really anything different." The distant look appeared again, and Laura placed her hand on Carmilla's, trying to bring her back. "Ell gave my mother an ultimatum. She would dump me if mother could ensure she would convince her father to let Ell attend Harvard. And since mother was dead set on keeping us apart -"

"You couldn’t go."

Carmilla grinned. “Ell got her place. I got to put on ocean between me and mother by attending Silas."

"Where's Ell now?"

"Heads up a police department in Chicago."

"Seriously?"

"She doesn't have to run a factory that packs meat, I'm not indebted to my mother where my career is concerned."

"The way she spoke it seemed like Ell was a sore point for you, that's why I didn't want it bring it up."

"Mother thinks I hate Ell, but if it wasn't for her I would have never got away. She helped save my life, I know that much."

"You know, you should talk more often."

"You've said multiple times that I talk a lot."

"Well, you do." Laura conceded. "But never really about anything. And I know I'm the same, so we should make an effort." Laura nodded, warming up to the idea. What her father said, about her not giving enough of herself, had been playing on her mind. "To talk about things. Important things. Not just which Harry Potter is the best."

"It's five."

"Carmilla."

"I can't believe you said four."

"Please."

"No one likes four."

"I'm making a speech." Laura mirrored Carmilla's grin.

"Sorry. I don't like serious."

"Me neither. But we can try. We will be married for eight months and seven days."

"We'll see."

"You know there's nothing wrong with four."

"There's a lot wrong with four."

//

_Eight months and nineteen days_

"I bet you fifty dollars they don't get divorced."

Laf looked around at the other three. The bar was quiet, and Perry sat beside them at the counter, with Danny leaning back in Kirsch’s arms.

"Lafontaine, we can't bet on our friends." Perry reprimands her.

"Why not? You know Carmilla has a standing bet with Jack from your office over whether you notice when she messes up your pens?"

"I always notice."

"Why do you think Jack buys drinks a lot when we go out?"

"Carmilla seems sure they won’t."

"Laura seems sure they will."

"Then why are betting against her?"

"Because Laura has this problem where she fights any form of happiness because she worries it will leave her eventually."

"Carmilla won’t even attempt happiness. She'll leave it all up Laura."

"So place your bet."

“I bet they will.”

“Danny!”

“Thank you, Danny. Any other takers?”

“Divorce, but get back together.”

“Risky, Kirsch, but adventurous. I like it.”

“Karnstein isn’t someone who waits around.” Danny said.

“Perry, any guesses.”

“I don’t like this.”

“I’m telling you, dudes, they’ll totally get back together.”

“Does Carmilla really have that bet against me?”

"She likes a challenge."

//

_Eight months and seventeen days_

A knock at the door alerted Perry to Laura's presence at the office she and Carmilla shared.

"Hi, Perry. Didn't mean to make you jump."

Perry shook her head. "It's fine. I was just focusing."

"Interesting case?"

"A disagreement over whether two children songs sound the same."

"Sounds fascinating."

"It really isn't, but thanks for trying."

"Is Carmilla around?"

"She went to get lunch. She'll be back soon if you want to wait."

"Will I be interrupting?"

"Yes, thank god."

Laura smiled. She had never spent much time with Perry before, her and Lafontaine having only been dating for a few months, and especially none if it alone. Since Carmilla, Laura found herself around her more often, and was happy about it. Carmilla had very little time for people who weren't worth it, and she always found the time for Perry.

"Is there a desk under all this paper?" Laura asked as she moved filed from Carmilla's chair onto the files on this desk.

"There used to be."

"This must drive you mad."

"If I ever have a stroke it's Carmilla's fault."

"Noted."

"How's work coming along?" Perry asked as Laura managed to find the desk chair.

"It's okay. Having trouble with a certain story, and most of my articles they publish are fillers, but gotta work your way up, right."

"Carmilla mentioned she was looking into something for you."

"She hadn't said anything, didn't know if she forgot."

Perry shook her head. "She's thorough. She'll let you know when she's ready. Are you still coming for dinner tomorrow?"

"Yeah we'll be there."

"It's at Lafontaine's now."

"Carmilla mentioned that they blew up your kitchen." Laura didn't say she mentioned it through bouts of laughter and impressions of Perry.

"I'm still not sure how."

"Can I listen to those children songs?"

Perry played the songs through the laptop. "They sound the same." Laura decided.

"That's my problem," sighed Perry.

A clatter and the door being kicked open signalled Carmilla returning.

"You've got to stop ordering crap with smoked salmon," she complained, throwing a paper bag on Perry's desk. "I can smell it through three layers of wrapping." She noticed Laura and gave her a bright smile.

"Hey, cupcake. Wasn't expecting you."

"I came to see Perry."

"Oh yeah?"

"What, you think I'm here for you or something?"

"As long I get to see that lovely face."

Perry watched the interaction carefully, wondering if she should have joined Lafontaine in the bet.

"Actually, I did come and see both of you." Laura said, refusing Carmilla's offer of half her sandwich and helping her move some of the files to the floor so Carmilla could perch on the edge of her desk. "I'm doing an article on corruption within uniformed police where court is concerned. Nothing serious, but it’s more exciting than where fire hydrants are redundant. I was wondering if you guys would answer some stuff?"

"You mean get interviewed?" asked Carmilla dubiously.

"Just a few questions. Nothing invasive."

"We'd be happy to help." Perry perked up.

"I'll sit this one out, cupcake."

"Carm, come on."

"Sorry, cutie. I don’t want my name in the paper again."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I won’t be interviewed."

//

"Carmilla said something strange."

"I don't know how I blew up Perr's kitchen, it just happened."

"Not that. Something about her and papers."

"Oh."

"Do you know what that means?"

"Could have sworn you were a journalist."

"Laf."

"Not my place, L. But google probably doesn't have as much of a conscience as me."

//

_Eight months and ten days_

Laura ate her breakfast in silence, half listening to Carmilla telling a story about some judge. She was swirling with emotions, guilt mixed with curiosity, and a slight bit of worry. But mostly guilt. If she was being honest with herself it was pretty much made up of guilt.

“And then the Blue Man Group appeared, on a dragon, and started singing _I Want to Break Free_.” Laura made a non-committal noise, causing Carmilla to roll her eyes and throw a grape at her. “Okay, you’re not listening, which I resent because I am a witty conversationalist.”

“I am.”

“What did I just say?”

“You were complaining about something.”

“Now that’s just a safe guess.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I googled you.”

Carmilla just frowned. “Okay.”

“That comment about staying out the paper. It bothered me.”

“Didn’t like what you found?”

“It’s not that.”

“I know what you read. Apparently seven years ago news was slow enough that they had to write stories about the rich Karnstein’s wild child.”

“I hate that phrase.”

“Me too.” Carmilla sighed. “I can see you’re burning with questions.”

“Guilt, actually,” Laura admitted. “It’s mostly guilt.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t have researched you. I should have just asked.”

“Yeah.”

“Would you have told me?”

“Nope.”

“Will you tell me now?”

“What do you want to know?”

Laura had read articles about teenage Carmilla being arrested, assaulting authority, driving drunk. Getting off each time because of who her mother is and how much influence she must have. If Laura had read that, not knowing her, she would have assumed Carmilla was a terror, a rich brat who took everything for granted and gave nothing in return. But she did know her, and she wasn’t like that, and Laura knew all too well how the media can twist stories and people’s lives.

“Did you really do all the things they said you did?”

“Probably.”

“And you never got in trouble?”

“Where do you think I get my threatening presence from?”

Laura had once witnessed her trying to kill a spider with a snooker cue because she didn’t want to get too close, but didn’t comment on the ‘threatening presence’. “Your mother?”

“Can’t have a scandal.”

“The stories weren’t scandal enough?”

“Could easily be disputed. Look at me now, bad ass lawyer despite my sordid past.”

“Sordid?”

“Sounds better than troubled, don’t you think?”

“So you never got punished?”

Carmilla scratched at a mark on the counter. “Not by the law.”

“What changed?” Laura gently pushed at her hand to stop her.

Carmilla shrugged. “Went to college. Got away from my mother. I was a stupid kid, but I grew up. Met Perry, who yelled at me until I got my act together.”

“Perry,” smiled Laura.

“Saved my life. But don’t tell her that. I like to keep a casual disinterest in my friends.”

“Your secrets safe with me.”

Laura was glad to see Carmilla smiling, not throwing accusations about Laura prying and being nosy.

“I don’t mind you knowing.”

“Okay.”

“But just ask next time, don’t pry.”

“Got it.”

“I can’t believe you never googled me before.”

“Did you google me?”

“Instantly. Once I found out your last name. It was on the marriage certificate.”

“Sometimes I forget you’re my wife.”

“I don’t, cupcake.” She smirked at Laura. “I don’t.”

//

_Eight months_

Carmilla paced in her office, swearing each time she paused to change direction. After looking into Vordenburg for two months she was really hoping to find something different than what found. It was beginning to look like the old man was involved in things less to do with industrial waste and more to do with contracted murder.

She spoke to contacts on the police force, as well as a couple of people from different firms, and found that Vordenburg was not above ridding himself of people who may cause him trouble. He wormed his way out of any lawsuit through influence, which loosely translated to money and threats. She judged him greatly, and was aware of her hypocrisy, given that it was only her mother’s influence that had kept her out of juvenile prison.

Laura’s research was thorough and well thought out, but it scratched the surface, and the reason no one wanted to speak out against him, it seems, was because they didn’t want to end up dead.

Perry found her, still pacing, muttering the pros and cons of telling Laura under her breath. She watched her for a moment, before sitting at her desk and letting her think.

“Pros.” Perry looked up when it became clear that Carmilla was addressing her, although what about she didn’t know. She listened regardless. “She’s impressed with my findings. She sees how good of a lawyer I am. So we get a step closer. She also might stand a chance of putting the scumbag away.” Carmilla seemed like she was waiting for Perry’s contribution, so she gave her an encouraging nod. “Cons.” She stopped pacing. “Potential death.”

This caught Perry’s attention. “Perhaps you should fill me in.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

_Seven months and twenty eight days_

The bar was empty, Danny and Kirsch were cleaning, and the peanut Carmilla aimed at Kirsch sailed above his head. She grumbled as she lined up another shot, placing it onto the spoon she held, aware that Laura’s leg was pressed against her and blaming that for the poor aim she was having. After talking it through, Perry had agreed to try and find out more about Vordenburg before they told Laura anything. They figured the three of them would be low enough on the man’s radar for him to cause them any trouble.

So far she had only hit Kirsch once and Danny twice, and she knew she was better than that.

“Carmilla, I swear.”

“Dude, not cool.”

Laura giggled and turned her head away into Carmilla’s shoulder as a peanut bounced of Danny’s head. She flipped her off, but Carmilla just grinned more.

“You could help, you know.”

“I’m a paying customer.”

“You’ve never brought a drink here in your life.”

Carmilla shrugged. “Can I try?” Laura asked her quietly. She took the spoon and aimed. A peanut hit Kirsch on the arm, and he clutched it, pretending to be hurt.

“You too, L?” he gasped, sounding wounded. Laura hid her giggles into Carmilla again.

Danny began to rethink the bet she made, and judging by Kirsch’s smug look he was thinking the same.

Laura poked Carmilla in the ribs to get her attention. “Can I ask you a favour?” Carmilla raised an eyebrow. “Another favour.”

“Shoot.”

“My dad’s found a buyer for the house, so I need to go through my stuff. Will you come with me?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

“Anything else? A new kidney? My firstborn?”

Laura poked her again, before making a grab for the peanuts and missing Kirsch by inches.

“You didn’t account for the wind.”

“We’re inside.”

Kirsch sidled up to Danny. “You’re going to lose the bet,” he whispered, kissing her cheek when she scowled.

//

“So I get to see your hometown.”

“Yes, Carm, you get to see my hometown.”

“Where little Laura grew up.”

“I’m going to regret this.”

“With pigtails and playing on the swings.”

“Starting to sound a bit amber alert.”

“This is a very wifely thing to do.”

“Definitely regretting this.”

“I’m your wife, I should know about your past.”

“Only for seven months and twenty eight days.”

“We’ll see.”

//

_Seven months and eighteen days_

Compared to where Carmilla grew up, Laura’s house was small and perky, and the town similar. Carmilla loved it instantly. She grinned as Laura rushed into her father’s arms, offering him a wave as she carted their bags in. They intended on staying the night, then catching a train home in the afternoon.

“My rooms upstairs.” Laura told her, evidently indicating that’s where she should take the bags. “We only have the two.”

“Couch is fine.”

Carmilla winked as she went to find Laura’s room, depositing the bags on the bed. It screamed Laura, with yellow curtains and ducks on the wallpaper.

“Don’t laugh.”

“Nice ducks.”

Laura poked her in the ribs as she passed.

“You okay?” Carmilla asked as she settled on the bed.

“Thank you for coming with me.”

“I wanted to see your dad. Completely selfish reasons.”

“You’re allowed to laugh at three things I used to own.”

“Six.”

“Four. And one snigger.”

“Deal.”

Laura beamed at her, though it was tinged in sadness.

“Dads making lunch. Then we can start with the attic.”

“Is it four things per room?”

“No.”

//

Laura decided that taking a break consisted of curling next to Carmilla against the attic wall, trying not to cry. Her things brought back memories, memories that filled her with a deep sadness of what was and what could have been. Carmilla’s fingers threaded through her hair, and every now and again she would scratch gently at her scalp. Comfort filled Laura, and she tried to ignore the heaviness in her chest.

Old books and videos littered the floor from the boxes that had been stored away. Carmilla had used up two of her laughs already, one a yellow Carebear that sang when you tickled it, and the second when Laura had tripped on a Disney album. Carmilla had argued that it hadn’t counted, as it had been at Laura and not an item, but Laura was adamant.

A lot of things could be donated, and it was getting easier selecting what could be thrown away.

“I wasn’t unhappy with just my dad.” Laura felt the need to clarify.

“I know that.”

“I just never understood why she left.”

“I don’t understand it either, cupcake. We just have to deal with what we’re given, I suppose.”

“My dad is probably willing to adopt you, if you’re on the lookout for another parent.”

Carmilla smiled. “I think that might put a bit of complications onto our relationship, don’t you?”

“Fine. He can adopt you in seven months and twenty two days.”

“We’ll see.”

Laura moved her head from Carmilla’s shoulder, surveying the boxes they still had. “Breaks over.”

“This was a break to you?”

“Look at us, hugging in lofts again.”

“Have to admire our consistency.”

“It’s the basement next.”

“That one you might have to tackle on your own.” Laura looked at Carmilla curiously. “I don’t do basements.”

//

While Laura was in the basement, finding which boxes she should bring up to sort through, Carmilla wondered into the kitchen, watching as Michael tried to work out how to fit the television stand back into its box.

“Need a hand?”

“I have the theory that companies make things so hard to get back into the box they came in so that you will go out and buy another one.”

“Capitalism,” Carmilla scoffed.

Michael smiled over at her as she got some water from the kitchen.

“How’s it going?”

“I’ve used two laughs and a snigger.”

“What?”

“It’s going fine. She’s holding it together. In truth I don’t really know how to help that much.”

“You’re doing fine.” He smiled at her encouragingly. “Honestly, she’s never confided in anyone about this kind of stuff. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but she can be a bit closed off.”

Carmilla had noticed, but didn’t mention that she still had seven and a half months to change that.

“Do you know what happened with her mother? Why she left?” Michael frowned as he turned back to the stand. “Sorry if I’m overstepping.”

“I don’t know where she went. If she found someone else, another family. If she’s even alive. I tried to find out at first, but I soon stopped. She destroyed Laura, and I didn’t want to know her after that.”

“How could someone just get up and leave her?”

“It’s sentences like that that make me hopeful you’ll be sticking around.”

“For as long as she’ll have me.”

Michael smiled like he had a secret she didn’t know, and just laughed when she looked at him questioningly.

“Why are you laughing?” Laura appeared in the doorway holding two boxes, stacked so that they were almost bigger than her.

“Carmilla was telling me about capitalism.”

“You two are weird. Can we go through these in my room?”

“Can you make it up there without toppling over?”

“You could take a box.”

“I’m holding water.”

//

When all the sorting was done, after Laura had cried twice and Carmilla had used up her four laughs and one snigger, they settled down for a last meal in Laura’s house. Her father was regaling Carmilla with yet another story about Laura’s awkward childhood, when Laura blurted out “we’re married”, causing Carmilla to choke on her noodles and her father to stop mid word.

After making sure that Carmilla could breathe again, her father looked at Laura for an explanation. She told him, keeping to the PG version. She had expected disappointment, or judgement, or at least a bit of anger that she had been so reckless, but instead he laughed. And laughed. And Carmilla grumbled and went back to her food whilst he carried on laughing some more.

“Dad,” Laura complained.

“Sorry,” he said, whipping tears from his eyes. “And don’t take my amusement for me being anything less than furious at you for being so irresponsible and getting yourself into that position. But god.” And then he started laughing again. “So what happened? You decided to stay married and see where it goes.”

“Yes.”

“No.” Laura scowled at Carmilla. “Someone messed up our divorce hearing.”

“It was me,” Carmilla confessed.

“I picked up on that.”

“Now we have to be married for a year until we can get one.”

“I see.” Michael nodded. “And you decided to tell me this now because?”

Laura shrugged. “I didn’t want to lie.”

“Okay. I mean I never explicitly asked the question ‘did you marry her in Vegas’, but I appreciate the honesty.” Carmilla sniggered as her father grinned at her. “And I feel I would be a bad parent if I didn’t scold you for being so reckless. You’re lucky you ended up with someone like Carmilla.”

“I tell her that all the time.”

“It could have been a serial killer.”

“Right, I’m sure serial killers always hang out at the chapels,” muttered Laura.

“What was that?”

“I said you’re right and I’m sorry.”

He turned to Carmilla. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Dad!”

“I’m sorry, Laura, but it was different when I thought she was just a friend you had a crush on. Now that she’s your wife we need rules.”

“I don’t… That’s not… Dad!”

Laura’s sentences were drowned out by laughter, and she huffed.

//

“You good?” Carmilla leant on the doorway to Laura’s room. She was holding the yellow Carebear and fiddling with its ears.

“My mum brought me this.”

“I thought that was in the donate box.”

“It was. I took it out.”

“Didn’t think it got here all by itself.” Carmilla sat next to her. “Sorry I laughed at it.”

“It’s fine. Was it the singing or the colour?”

“The heart shaped ears.”

“Ah.”

The sound of Teddy Bears Picnic came from the bear’s stomach when Laura poked its sides. They waited out the song, and silence filled the room. Tears were forming in Laura’s eyes, and Carmilla pulled her against her.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I know you don’t like hugging.”

“I don’t mind too much.”

“I still miss her.” It came out as a whisper. “I’m so angry at her for leaving us. But I still miss her.”

“I get it.”

“You do?”

Carmilla nodded. “Parents are funny things.”

“Am I being insensitive? Because of what it was like with your mother?”

“No. I never had singing Carebears, or any particular good memories involving my mother. I hate my mother more than I’ve ever hated anyone, but she’s my mother to hate. Does that make sense?”

“I think so.” Laura threaded their hands together. “You know you don’t really have to sleep on the couch.”

“It’s fine.”

“That’s my way of asking you to stay.”

“You seemed pretty freaked out the last time we woke up together.”

“That was because you were naked. If you stay clothed it should be fine.”

“I make no promises.”

Laura sat up at gave her a small smile. And then she pouted.

“That’s cheating,” Carmilla groaned.

“I sleep on the left.”

“Will anymore of your toys sing nursery rhymes if I poke them in the side?”

“Only Frank.”

“Which ones Frank?”

“The giraffe.”

“Right. Silly me.” Carmilla located the giraffe, and grinned at Laura as Yankee Doodle played.

//

“You told your dad?”

“It’s not a big deal, Laf.”

“Kinda is, L. It’s almost making it official.”

“Stop it. You’re as bad as Carmilla.”

“How did he react?”

“He laughed.”

“Good man.”

//

“She told her dad.”

“You’ve said.”

“Her father. Who she adores. She told him.”

“Carmilla, we’re in court.”

“This is important.”

“I don’t think the jury agrees.”

“I’m going to tell the judge.”

“Sit down!”

//

_Six months_

“Happy anniversary.”

Carmilla held up a paper bag and grinning, a sense of déjà vu settling over her when Laura promptly closed the door she just opened.

“Cute.”

Laura opened the door again. “This is not an anniversary.”

“We’ve been married for six months. Some couples would celebrate that.”

“We are not one those couples.” Carmilla beamed. “We’re not a couple at all. Shut up.”

She moved to get the coffee from the kitchen, grumbling as Carmilla grinned while placing the pastries on plates.

“More almond croissants?” Laura said as Carmilla loaded three onto her plate.

“I have to say I was sceptical at first. So, how are we going to celebrate this milestone?”

“I was thinking of ignoring your phone calls and going to bed early.”

“That can be how we celebrate the next one. You can think of it as celebrating half way to being done with me if you like.” Carmilla was smirking as she said it, so Laura knew it wasn’t as self-deprecating as it sounded.

“Only if we invite Perry and Laf.”

“Double date.”

“No.”

//

_Five months and twenty two days_

Laura was seething. In fairness, she knew she had reasons not to be, but after going to Carmilla’s office looking for her and finding the file on Vordenburg that had been kept from her, Laura couldn’t help the anger that rose. People always tried to protect her, tried to keep her away from danger, and now Carmilla was keeping what was, potentially, a huge story from her. And she could guess why.

“Hey.” Carmilla was surprised to see Laura sitting at her desk, and even more surprised at the glare she sent her way when she walked in. It wasn’t the playful one when Carmilla was starting to annoy her. “What’s wrong?”

Laura held up the file.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“You read my stuff?”

“It’s got a post-it note that says Vordenburg.”

“That’s not an invitation to read it.”

“Were you going to tell me?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Eventually.”

“Seriously?”

“Laura.”

“This is my story.”

“I was looking into it.”

“For the past four months.”

“You read it right? You can see that this isn’t a guy you write an article about in some corner paper.”

“Corner paper?”

“I just mean…” Carmilla took a breath. “I just mean that this guy is bad news. With capital letters. Perry and I were just trying to get all we could about him.”

“And you didn’t think to fill me in?”

“It’s just you can be very … gung-ho.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t take time to think about things. And most of the time it’s endearing and it makes you a great reporter, but he hurts people, Laura.”

Laura nodded like Carmilla had just confirmed something she suspected. “So you were trying to protect me.”

“Don’t say it like it’s such a crime.”

“You lied.”

“I was going to tell you. Don’t storm out.”

“I’m not storming.” Laura practically threw the file at Carmilla as she passed. “I’m going to write this article without your help.”

“Please don’t do that.”

The door slammed as Laura left, and Carmilla quickly rang Perry. “Laura found the Vordenburg stuff,” she said as soon as the phone was answered.

“Oh darn.” Carmilla didn’t have the energy to make fun of Perry’s false swearing. “Did you explain about Ell?”

“Confidentiality. Perry, if she writes that article we’re fucked.”

“I’ll get Lafontaine to talk to her.”

//

“I can’t believe you’re taking their side!”

“I’m not. But Carmilla and Perry wouldn’t keep something from you if they didn’t have a reason.”

“That sounds a lot like taking their side.”

“Laura.”

“I don’t need protecting, Laf.”

“No one said you did.”

“They lied!"

//

_Five months and twenty three days_

**Carm: Do you want me to bring breakfast or are you still mad?**

**The Wife: Still mad.**

//

_Five months and twenty two days_

**Carm: Can pastries make you talk to me?**

**The Wife: No.**

//

_Five months and twenty one days_

**Carm: I think you’re being unfair about this**

**The Wife: I’m not.**

//

_Five months and twenty days_

Laura checked her phone in the morning to find she had no text. She was still mad, and by the time evening came around and she still hadn’t heard from Carmilla she was, for some reason, even madder. She wished she had taken Vordenburg’s file when she had left Carmilla’s office, but instead she was left with her own research and whatever she could remember from what she read.

Her phone rang just as she was about to turn in, and  _Carm_  on caller id brought a fresh wave of annoyance.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Mrs Karnstein?” The voice was unfamiliar.

“Erm…”

“It’s Doctor Walker, from Queen Victoria Hospital. It’s about your wife.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Laura burst through the doors of the hospital and ran to the front desk, frantically trying to explain who she was. The receptionist looked bewildered, but finally directed Laura to the ward where she was told Carmilla was. Another run brought her to another reception desk, and a male voice calling her from the hallway ceased her rambling.

“Mrs Karnstein?” Laura looked up to see a tall doctor frowning at her.

“Yes,” she said, not even bothering to correct him, “Carmilla?”

He led her down the hallway, explaining what had happened. “She was found early this morning, and when she was brought in we took to surgery. She has some broken ribs and a fractured wrist, and we were concerned about a head injury, but since theatre she’s woken up a few times and seemed okay. She asked us to call her wife.”

“Do they know who did this?” Laura asked, her voice hard.

Doctor Walker shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mrs Karnstein. Whoever did it got away. But the police are looking to talk to her. I’ve made them wait until I can say she’s up for it.”

“Is she awake now?”

“No. She’s been given morphine, so should sleep through the night. You can go home and we can call you when she wakes or…”

“No.” Laura cut him off. “I’ll wait here.”

He nodded, like that’s what he thought, and led her into Carmilla’s room. Laura chest hurt at the sight of Carmilla lying in the bed, wires attached to her arms and the steady beeping of her heart filling the room.

“Will she be okay?” Laura whispered.

She could only handle one answer right now, and her eyes filled with tears when the doctor said “Yes, we believe so.”

//

_Five months and nineteen days_

Carmilla woke to the sound of her own heartbeat on the monitor. When she had first woken, in the hospital bed surrounded by nurses and a doctor, she had panicked. That panic had quickly turned to relief when memories filled her, and she realised that she hadn’t died in an alley. She remembered being hit from behind, then held back as fists connected with whatever part of her body they could find. At one point high school muscle memory kicked in, and she got in a few punches of her own, but it turns out high school muscle memory stood no chance against a baseball bat, and all she could do is curl into a ball, protect her head, and hope they stopped hitting her.

She passed out before that happened.

She dragged her eyes open to find it was light, and a hand was held loosely in hers. Laura was curled up in a chair very near her bed, sleeping with a small frown, and, despite her condition, Carmilla couldn’t help but smile.

She blew air on Laura’s nose so that it crinkled, then blew again until she cracked her eyes open and took in her surroundings.

“You’re awake!” She leapt to her feet. “I’ll get someone.”

“Cupcake,” Carmilla tried, but Laura was already out the room. She returned with a nurse, who checked Carmilla’s vitals, and asked if she was in any pain.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t realise we shared pain receptors, cutie.”

“The morphine would have worn off by now. You must be in pain. You need more.”

“Yes but that would put me to sleep. Can’t look at that face when I’m asleep, can I now?”

The nurse smiled at that, and told Carmilla she would get the doctor to check on her. Laura sat back down, and seemed to hesitate before taking Carmilla’s hand.

“I’m not going to break.”

“I know that.”

“You’re here.”

“You got hurt.”

“Still mad at me?”

Laura shook her head. “I don’t think I could be right now.”

“I’m okay.”

“I was so scared.”

“Me too.” Carmilla admitted.

“You’re okay.”

“Yes.”

Carmilla shifted, trying to sit up, but pain shot through her chest. Laura grumbled and kept her lying down with gentle pressure to her shoulders, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Stay still.”

“What did the doctor tell you?”

“You were found in an alley.” Carmilla flinched. “The police want to talk to you.”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Laura was almost crying again, threading her hand with Carmilla’s. The doctor interrupted them, checking over Carmilla and explaining she had a few busted ribs and a cast on her wrist, and needed to stay in hospital for a while, but should be free to go home in a week or so.

“And the police want to talk to you.”

“I know.”

“I can put them off, but it would be best to talk to them as soon as possible.”

“Okay. Now’s fine.”

“I’ll get them.”

“Cutie, would you wait outside while I talk to them?”

“I can stay.”

“Do you want to know details?” Laura didn’t. Seeing Carmilla bruised and hurt made her chest squeeze enough, and hearing about it wouldn’t make that better. But the thought of leaving Carmilla’s side was almost as worse. “Go on.” Carmilla could see Laura’s hesitation. “I’ll still be here.”

//

The police spoke to Laura, but, not knowing what Carmilla had told them, she said nothing. She could guess who had done this, but wanted to talk to Carmilla before.

“I told Perry you’re awake.” Laura wandered around Carmilla’s room aimlessly. “Her and Lafontaine are going to visit later.”

“Okay.”

“They’re going to tell Danny and Kirsch, so they’ll probably be by.”

“Exciting.” Carmilla watched Laura carefully as she picked up her water jug.

“You need more water.”

“I don’t”

“I’m going to get you more water.”

“Laura.” She froze, her back to Carmilla and the water jug shaking. “Come sit with me.”

Laura sat back in the chair, her hand finding Carmilla’s again.

“Was it him?” Laura asked in a whisper.

“Would be a coincidence if it wasn’t.”

“Did you tell the police?”

Carmilla shook her head. “You have to trust me.”

“Okay.” Laura said quietly.

“So you’ll wait on the article?”

“Yes. But only if you promise to not lie to me. For whatever reasons.”

“I could ask you anything right now and you’d do it, right?”

“Probably.”

“Don’t divorce me in five months and nineteen days.”

“You’ll be out of hospital by then. I won’t feel so bad.”

“I thought I was going to die.” Carmilla said it quietly, and weakly, and full of so much vulnerability that Laura felt she was going to cry again. She moved so she was sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, and pulled Carmilla to her as much as she could without jostling the wires or causing her pain. Carmilla leant her head against Laura’s hip and closed her eyes.

//

“Looking good, Karnstein.”

“Suck it, Lawrence.”

“Perry brought a vineyard.”

“I can see that. Didn’t feel like leaving any grapes for the rest of the city, Perr?”

“I wanted you to have enough. I was so worried.”

“About my grape intake?”

“So did you manage to get any hits in yourself?”

“Danny!”

“I think I broke one of their noses.”

“Nice one, dude.”

“Kirsch, don’t try and high five her.”

“She’s got a broken wrist, man.”

“Can someone take Laura home later so she can sleep in an actual bed and eat something not from a vending machine?”

“I’m right here!”

//

_Five months and sixteen days_

Lafontaine sat down on the plastic waiting chairs next to Laura outside Carmilla’s room.

“They still talking about law?” Laura asked.

“Yup. Guess that’s we get for being with lawyers.”

Laura looked to see Laf grinning. “You’re as bad as Carmilla sometimes,” she huffed.

Laf laughed gently, and the pressure on Laura’s chest that had been slowly lessening over the last few days got a bit lighter.

“Everyone seems to be in agreement this was Vordenburg’s doing,” Lafontaine commented, keeping their voice light.

“Carm says to trust her.”

“Are you going to?”

“I probably should have earlier.”

“Don’t go blaming yourself, Laura. It’s no ones fault but his.”

“Do you know what they’re doing?”

Laf shook their head. “Perry’s big on the confidentiality thing.”

“Urg, lawyers.”

“I’m going to take you back for a bit.”

“I’m fine.”

“You haven’t been home in three days. You’re smelling pretty ripe.”

“Thanks.”

“And you need to sleep.”

“Carm says that it was a warning. That nothing else will happen.”

“Nothing will. Perry will be staying here tonight. They have more law to talk about.”

“This should never have happened.”

“I’m sensing blame in your future.”

“I’m tired.” Laura admitted quietly.

“Go say goodbye and I’ll take you home.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll bring you back first thing.”

“Nothing will happen to her, right?”

Lafontaine threw their arm around her shoulder. “I promise.”

//

_Five months and fifteen days_

Laura dreamt of Carmilla dying, and when she woke promptly decided not to go to sleep again without Carmilla either out of the hospital or a foot away from her. She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to settle the stirring in her chest. She’d never understood the thought of not being able to live without anyone, she thought she would never survive losing a parent but had, but a world without Carmilla was not one she was interested in.

Her door knocked, and Laura wiped her eyes as she dragged herself away from the bed. Carmilla’s mother waited for her when she opened the door, and Laura staggered back as she pushed herself inside.

“What the hell?”

“Miss Hollis.” The greeting was cold and filled with distain.

“You can’t just barge in here.”

“I won’t be long.”

“Carmilla’s in the hospital.”

“I know,” she said, like Laura had just recounted a boring fact. “I won’t have time to visit her.”

“I wasn’t asking you to.”

Lilita sneered at her. “I have gotten word of a little article you intend to write. I advise that you don’t.”

“What?”

“You’re getting yourself involved with the big players. It was cute before, but now you’ve roped my daughter and that friend of hers into it. So when I say advise, I mean I’m telling you to do it. Drop everything.”

“Why do you care what happens to Vordenburg?”

“Our interests are tied.”

“You mean you’re in league with him.”

Lilita laughed, a cruel, mocking laugh that just incensed Laura further. “We aren’t supervillains, Miss Hollis. The problems you cause for him cause problems for me. So I’m telling you. Drop it now.”

“You’re going to let the man who put Carmilla in the hospital get away.”

“And you’re going to break her heart.” Laura’s breath caught at that. “I guess we’re both going to hurt my daughter somehow.” She moved to brush past Laura. “I’m telling you, but I’ll gladly go to Carmilla. And this is me being polite.”

“She’d never drop it.”

There was that laugh again. “You don’t know my daughter that well, do you? This won’t be the first person she’s let off by my request.”

“You’re lying.”

It seemed that, if Lilita were the type to shrug, she would have. “I’m not. Give her my best. Tell her I’ll cover her hospital bills.”

“Get out.”

Lilita smiled over her shoulder as the door closed, leaving Laura to fall onto the couch and think. Then she opened her laptop and started writing until Laf came to take her back to the hospital.

//

_Four months and twenty seven days_

“You’re buzzing.”

“Am not.”

“You’ve got something on your mind. Just tell me, cupcake.”

Laura stepped back from where she got Carmilla situated on her couch. Carmilla could have probably handled it herself, but didn’t want to tell Laura that. Her wrist was in a cast and she had medication to take, and whenever she moved too suddenly her ribs screamed at her, but she was alive. And Laura was looking at her softly and in the past two weeks had only gone home to shower.

“Your mother visited me.”

“What? When?”

“About a week okay.”

“Why?”

“Stop moving.”

“I’ll move all I want.”

“You seem angry.”

“Laura, why?”

“She wanted me to drop the Vordenburg story.”

Carmilla closed her eyes. “Do you ever get the feeling the universe hates you?”

“I ended up married to you, didn’t I.”

“Not now, Laura.”

“Sorry.”

“Tell me what she said.”

“Just that I was in over my head. And that if I didn’t drop it she’d go to you.”

“Did you listen?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Jesus, Hollis.” Carmilla rubbed her eyes.

“I haven’t published anything or even told my editor. You said to trust you and I do. But I won’t be threatened by her, Carm.”

She sat on the coffee table so she was facing Carmilla. Her cast had drawings on, curtesy of Kirsch and Lafontaine. She focused on the little cupcake Carmilla had insisted they add.

“I’m not expecting you to stop because she said so,” Carmilla said quietly.

“Good.”

“What else did she say?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? No parting words that are making you avoid making eye contact with me.”

“Oh.”

Carmilla hummed. “She does that a lot.”

“She said you’ve dropped cases for her before.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“She makes you sound corrupt.”

“You believe her?”

“That you’re corrupt? No.” Laura looked Carmilla in the eye. It was important for her to understand this. “But what do you mean by more complicated?”

“She threatens people. Not me, because if I lost my job then she wouldn’t have anyone to do what she demands.”

“She threatens your friends.”

Carmilla nodded. This time it was her who avoided eye contact. “She could get Perry fired in an instant. Danny and Kirsch have almost lost the bar twice. She sends harsh inspectors their way and won’t call them off until I do what she asks.”

“So you drop cases?”

“Not exactly.” She ran her hand through her hair, and Laura waited patiently for her to continue. “I send them to Ell.”

“Ell?”

“She takes over the investigations. She’s in Chicago, but can find ways press charges in other states if she needs, or at least get people talking about it. I can’t do it for all of them, some I have to drop. And I know it’s bad and these people are breaking the law and all that bullshit, but I’d rather some rich prick gets off embezzling his company than my friends end up homeless.”

She risked a glance at Laura and saw no judgement in her eyes. “I understand.”

“You do?”

“I had a front seat to your mother.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Did you send Vordenburg’s case to Ell?”

Carmilla nodded. “She asked me not to tell you. Could jeopardise the case.”

“You’re telling me now.”

“I don’t want you thinking badly of me.”

“I never could.”

Laura sat next to her, Carmilla resting her head on her shoulders and closing her eyes.

“If we expose Vordenburg your mother said it would damage her too.”

“The reasons to do this are just piling up.”

“Would that get you in trouble?”

Carmilla couldn’t help but smile. “I can handle my mother.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Hands we’re given, and all that.”

“If you need me to drop it I will.”

Carmilla lifted her head from her shoulder to look at her. “Seriously?”

Laura nodded. “If it’s between loosing you or the story.”

A small smile developed on Carmilla’s face at that. “Thanks, cutie. But I think it’s gone too far now.” She leant back against Laura.

“I’m going to stop anyone from ever hurting you again.” Laura promised.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“If this were a couple this is when we’d kiss,” Carmilla grinned.

“Love is shown in strange ways.”

“It’s a good job we’re not in love then.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“You’ve said that already.”

“I just need you to know.”

“I do.”

//

“I can’t even believe I’m going to say this, but you need to get Laura to back off a bit.”

“Are you serious? You’ve spent the last seven months trying to get her, and now you’re complaining when she’s around?”

“It’s too much, Laf. And I don’t just mean for me. It’s not good for her.”

“She’s worried.”

“I picked up on that. But I’m not going to be murdered in my bed.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know. Take her out somewhere. Get her to talk to you about her feelings.”

“Can’t you talk about her feelings?”

“Gross. We don’t do that.”

“Great basis for a relationship.”

“Laf, please.”

“She was terrified when you were hurt. I think she’s terrified it’s going to happen again.”

“Is she sleeping?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I don’t either. I’ve offered letting her stay round, but she refuses. Then she goes home and doesn’t sleep, then comes back early in the morning, seemingly terrified I’ve gone somewhere.”

“Fear of abandonment.”

“I picked up on that too.”

“I’ll talk to her.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

_Four months and sixteen days_

Laura shifted awkwardly as she made coffee. With Carmilla having been assigned to bed rest she had taken over the duty of breakfast.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked suddenly.

Carmilla looked up from the book she was reading. “Huh?”

“I can go, you know, after breakfast. You can just say if it’s too much.”

“Laf spoke to you.”

“I can be intense sometimes.”

“I didn’t mean leave. But I know you’re not sleeping.”

“You got hurt.”

“And now I’m better. And if you sleep, or spend some time somewhere that isn’t work or here, I won’t go anywhere.”

“I’m scared.” Laura admitted.

“You’ll be fine.”

“Not for me, dummy.”

“Perry will be fine too.”

“Carm.”

Carmilla put down the book on the sofa and went to Laura. “As far as my mother’s concerned you dropped the story and we stopped investigating. Me getting hurt won’t happen. There’s nothing in it for them.”

“Can I teach you a bit of Krav Maga?”

“Excuse me?”

“The self-defence the Israeli’s use.”

“I know what it is. How do you know it? You’re four foot.”

“My dad.”

“Ah.”

“So you’ll let me?”

“I’m injured.”

“You broke three ribs that are mostly healed now. Don’t be a baby.”

Carmilla didn’t resist as Laura positioned her so they were both in front of each other. She was grinning widely, and took up what she guessed was meant to be a threatening stance.

“Fine. But only so I can touch you inappropriately and have it look like an accident.”

It wasn’t long before Carmilla ended up on her back. She groaned as she ribs ached, not missing Laura blushing and quickly standing up so she wasn’t straddling her.

“You okay there, cutie?”

“Stand back up.”

“Lie back down.”

“I’ll knock you over again.”

“What happened to not letting anyone hurt me, cupcake?”

//

_Four months and ten days_

“Carmilla. Welcome back.”

“Perry, did you clean our office?”

“Everything.”

“Looks nice. I should let you do it sooner.”

“You’ve been injured, so I’ll let you off with that.”

“Did you tell everyone I was mugged?”

“They kept asking. And I thought it sounded better than the truth.”

“Did you have to go with mugged, though?”

“I doubt they would have believed fought a bear.”

“You don’t know that.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Got the cast off.”

“I thought something was missing.”

“Ell said the Vordenburg thing is moving along nicely.”

“Good. I’ll be relieved when it’s all over.”

//

_Four months and two days_

“I heard from Ell.”

“And a very good morning to you too, Cutie.”

“Carm.”

Carmilla smiled as she handed Laura the Sunday pastries and went to make coffee.

“Are you hungover?” Laura followed her, sorting out the plates.

“I hope so. If not I’m having a stroke.”

“Laf said your work took you out.”

“Yup. Being nearly beaten to death puts people in a drink buying mood.” Carmilla froze, suddenly remembered parts of the night. “Shit.” Laura was grinning at her. “I text you.”

“Seventeen times.”

“Shit.”

“You were very flattering.”

“Please don’t.”

“So do my eyes really look like freshly dripped honey on a summers eve?”

“I’m begging you.” Carmilla covered her eyes and leant her head against the fridge.

“And my hands, sculpted by Michael Angelo himself.”

“I’ll take back the pastries.”

“You get very poetic when you drink.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Laura leant over to pull Carmilla’s hand from in front of her eyes and turn her around to face her. “My ego could use a boost.”

Carmilla hummed, embarrassment fading the more Laura smiled at her.

“I could use paracetamol.”

“In the draw.”

“So you heard from Ell?”

“She’s nearly ready to bring charges to Vordenburg. She wants me to release the article at the same time.”

“The article you said you weren’t going to write with the file you weren’t going to take from me?”

“Yeah, that one. I told my editor.”

“And?”

“He accused me of being a proper journalist.”

“The audacity.”

“Can you read it, make sure it’s okay?”

“Sure.”

Laura handed her a stack of paper.

“It’s long.”

“I’ll cut it down.”

Carmilla read as they ate, aware of Laura’s eyes on her. She was no journalist, and the newspaper wasn’t really her thing, so had very little idea if it was a good article or not. But it was well written, and Laura was presenting Vordenburg as a villain without actually explicitly saying it.

“Thanks for not mentioning me,” she said when she was done.

“Of course.”

“It’s good, Laura.”

“Yeah?”

Carmilla nodded. “Between this and Ell, I think we’ve got this.”

“Well, my thoughts are pearls in an ocean of wisdom.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

//

_Three months and twenty nine days_

Arms encircled Carmilla from behind, almost causing her to knock her burger from the counter.

“If that’s not Laura, tell me now,” she said seriously to Danny, who just smirked.

“Have you seen the paper?” came Laura’s excited squeal in Carmilla’s ear.

“No. Why, is there something exciting?”

Laura thrust the paper at her.  _Vordenburg’s Dark Secrets: Exposed_  glared at her from the front page.

“Catchy.”

“Thanks.”

“I like the addition of a colon.”

“I’m on the front page.”

Carmilla turned her head so she could mirror Laura’s grin.

“Yeah you are.”

“And…” Laura practically shoved her phone in Carmilla’s face. News of Vordenburg’s arrest was flashing on the screen. “We did it.”

“We did,” agreed Carmilla.

“Ell got all kind of crimes on him. Murder, insider trading, more murder.”

“I can see.”

“And maybe they’ll be able to find the people who attacked you.”

Carmilla’s ribs still ached in the mornings, and dark alleys have been added to the list of things she’s afraid off. “Maybe.”

“This is good, right?” She turned to look at Laura’s gleeful expression.

“Yeah, it is.”

Laura planted a kiss on her cheek before running off to talk to Kirsch.

“Kiss on the cheek.”

“Stuff it, Lawrence.”

“Almost as bad as a high five.”

Carmilla watched as Kirsch grinned while Laura talked animatedly to him.

“If she kisses him on the cheek I’m going to get you both fired.”

“We own the bar.”

“Try me.”

“You don’t seem very excited.”

Danny was watching her closely. She felt like she was being analysed.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me like you’re trying to figure out what I’m thinking.”

“You don’t look very excited.” Danny repeated.

“Having my ribs broken in an alley has dampened my excitement level.”

“You don’t think it’s over.”

Carmilla didn’t answer, just took a bite of her burger and shrugged. “I don’t think he’ll get put away. Fined, maybe, and his reputation is pretty much dirt now. But that’ll be it.”

“And you’re not telling Laura that?”

“She’s going to after my mother next.”

“Well that won’t be good.”

Carmilla snorted. “I’m striving for not good. I’m expected catastrophic.”

“At least having your ribs broken in an alley hasn’t stopped you from being melodramatic.”

They were interrupted by Kirsch’s laugh and Laura’s excited squeal. “They are far too cheerful.”

“We should dampen their spirit at some point,” Danny agreed.

“Don’t worry, my mother’s very good at that.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I couldn’t stop Laura if I tried. So I guess just see what happens.”

//

_Three months and twenty three days_

“Caaaarm.” Carmilla turned from where she was talking to Lafontaine, only to be enveloped by Laura. The bar was hot and crowded, and Laf had had the idea to celebrate. Not in the mood for celebrating, Carmilla stepped back and let Laura celebrate for both of them.

“You okay there, cutie.”

Laura nodded seriously, a lazy grin developing. “I’m happy.”

“I’m glad.”

“Jack keeps buying me drinks.”

“That’s because Perry has laser vision when it comes to pens.”

“What?”

“Do you want some water?”

Another serious nod and a look at Laf asking them to get it left the two of them alone. Laura wound her arms back around Carmilla’s neck, her breath tickling far too close to her throat, and Carmilla was glad she hadn’t had too much to drink as she put an arm around Laura’s waist to steady her.

“I don’t want to break your heart,” she whispered into Carmilla’s ear, causing her to pull back and see Laura’s distressed face.

“What do you mean?”

“Your mother said I’d hurt you. Like she does. Break your heart.”

“Don’t you worry about my heart, cupcake.” She pushed the hair from Laura’s face, making her look up. “And you’re not going to hurt me. And definitely not like my mother does.

“I don’t want you to leave me.” Laura said it like a confession.

“I never will.”

“Pinky promise?” Laura presented her pinky, and the previous sadness was suddenly gone. Carmilla sighed deeply, before linking it with her own.

Laf returned with water, looking curiously between the two of them. “Laura, Jack’s looking for you.”

“Oh more drinks.”

“Maybe slow down a bit,” Carmilla called as she bounced away.

“What was all that about?”

“It’s fine. My mother’s just getting in her head.”

“You know what you need, don’t you?”

“Therapy?”

“Close. Tequila.”

//

By the time Carmilla had located Laura in the slowly dwindling bar, she was leaning on a snooker cue to keep her upright. Carmilla watched her with amusement as she swayed, finally taking pity on her.

“Laura, want me to take you home?”

Laura nodded, and Carmilla supported her as they left, waving goodbye to Kirsch who had a sleeping Danny leaning against him. The fresh air perked Laura up slightly, and she leant on Carmilla less for support, but still kept her close.

“Come up with me,” she said as they reached her apartment building. The shots of tequila had worn off and Carmilla agreed on the condition Laura drank water and went to bed.

When they entered the apartment she found herself pressed against the door, Laura’s lips on her. She didn’t remember much of their wedding night, only flashes, but if this is what it felt like Carmilla didn’t know how she could ever forget.

“Laura,” she mumbled as she pulled back. “You’re drunk.”

“Am not.”

Laura pulled her by the belt, leading her to the bedroom, and Carmilla felt powerless to resist. Laura’s lips reclaimed hers, and then she deepened it, her tongue brushing her bottom lip as Carmilla cupped her face. She was spun and her legs hit the bed, Laura landing on her without breaking contact. As lips were pressed against her neck, and Carmilla moved her hands down Laura’s body, a sudden rush made her pull back and move away.

“Laura, no.” Carmilla stood from the bed. “Not like this. Not drunk. Not again.” Carmilla never had many morals when it came to sex, she had taken drunk girls home before. But she had been just as drunk, and none of them had been Laura. “I’m going to get you some water. Then you’re going to go to sleep, okay.”

“Okay.” Laura sounded small and hurt, and Carmilla couldn’t even look at her as she found a glass and filled it. When she returned Laura was curled on her side with her eyes closed, and Carmilla placed the water and two tablets on the table nearby. She dithered for a moment, unsure what to do, then kissed Laura on the forehead before leaving.

//

_Three months and twenty days_

“She kissed me. I mean like properly kissed me. And it would have gone further if I hadn’t stopped her. But she was drunk.” Carmilla aimed a peanut at Danny. It sailed wide, but her heart wasn’t really in it. “And now it’s been three days and she’s either angry at me or embarrassed, but she can’t keep blowing me off like this.”

This time the peanut struck Danny’s shoulder, and she whirled on Carmilla. “For fuck sake, isn’t it bad enough we have to listen to you whine without dealing with this shit.” She kicked the peanut on the floor, throwing down the towel she was cleaning with.

“Dan,” Kirsch said quietly. Danny rubbed her eyes.

“Sorry, Karnstein,” she sighed. “Just a bit stressed.”

Carmilla put down the spoon and the peanuts. “Anything I can help with?” She didn’t miss the eye contact the couple shared.

“No.”

“Don’t worry about it, dude.”

She watched them as they looked at each other again.

“Will you just tell me.”

“I said don’t worry about it.”

“Well you two obviously are.” They didn’t answer. “I’m going to run out of goodwill in a moment. Tell me or I’ll find out myself.”

Danny sighed as she went behind the bar, producing a letter and handing it to Carmilla.

“You’re being investigated?”

“We’ve been accused of selling to underage kids.”

“Did you?”

“No!”

“Alright, just asking. Is this my mother again? I swear if you two look at each other like that one more time.”

“We don’t know.”

“We think so.”

“Okay.” Carmilla took out her phone. “I’ll see what she wants this time.”

“No!” They said it in unison.

“It’s fine, dude.”

“Leave it, Karnstein.”

“It’s already ringing.”

It took a minute of Danny and Kirsch watching her before her mother picked up.

“Carmilla.” She hated that fake pleasant tone so much. “You ring so rarely.”

“What do you want?” Carmilla turned her back to the bar.

“You rang me.”

“Cut the shit.”

“Careful. Language.” Her mother’s voice became sterner. Carmilla sought to keep her temper even. “I was thinking perhaps you would like to visit.”

“You?”

“I’ll book you a flight.”

“What do you want, mother?”

“We’ll talk when you arrive. And leave your little thing at home.”

“Laura.” Carmilla growled.

Her mother laughed. “Well I won’t have to know her name when she finally divorces you, will I. Your flight’s at seven. I’ll have someone pick you up.”

She hung up. Carmilla paused for a moment before turning to face Danny and Kirsch. “Guess I’m visiting my mother.”

“No!”

“Do you practice that?”

“Look, we can’t keep depending on you to get us out of shit.”

“It’s my fault you’re in the shit to start with. I’ve got to get a flight, don’t tell Laura were I’m going. Not that she’ll ask.”

They could only watch as Carmilla stood, knowing that no argument would get her to sit down and think for a moment.

“She’s probably ashamed and confused.” Carmilla glanced at Kirsch. “Laura. Kissing you like that. I don’t think she expected to fall for you. And I dunno to what extent, but she obviously has. But she can’t be pushed. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think Laura would ever want to be without you.”

Carmilla stared at him for a moment longer. “Thanks, Kirsch.”

They watched her grab her jacket and leave.

//

“Carmilla Karnstein!”

“Fuck, don’t do that.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What brings you to the airport, cupcake?”

“My idiot wife running off like she’s some superhero.”

“I don’t do superhero, cutie. So the Kirsches ratted me out?”

“They told me you were going to fly to see your mother. Alone.”

“Bastards. I specifically told them to lie to you. That better not be an overnight bag I see there, Hollis.”

“You’re not going alone.”

“I am.”

“I’ve already got a seat. You can either let me go with you or I can follow a few feet behind you, talking the whole time about what an idiot you are.”

“Laura.”

“Quickly. Otherwise we’re going to miss our flight.”

//

Her mother hadn’t even splashed out for first class. Laura sat a few rows behind her, and after Carmilla refused to talk to her as they boarded, had huffed off to find her own seat. She didn’t mention that night, or made any inclination that she intended to. As far as Carmilla was aware she might not even remember it, or had put it down to a dream.

They landed and Laura found her again, keeping her promise of walking a few feet behind her and narrating the walk by telling Carmilla how foolish she was being.

“Alright, I get it.” Carmilla turned around. “You think I’m being stupid.”

“You don’t have to go alone.”

“She said to go alone.”

“So?”

“So. So you’ve ignored me for three days I wasn’t going to ring and invite you back to visit Hades.”

“I’m sorry.” Carmilla didn’t even know what Laura was apologising for. But she sounded sincere. And was pouting.

“Fine. But you don’t get to pout again this whole trip.”

“Deal.”

Laura sped up so she was walking beside her. After a moment of hesitation she slipped her hand into Carmilla’s, secretly relieved when she didn’t pull away.

“Mother’s going to be so pissed you’re here.”

“Good.”

//

Lilita was waiting for them inside her study. She scowled when she saw Laura hovering next to Carmilla.

“I thought I said to leave her at home, darling.”

“She’s persistent.”

Lilita hummed. “Perhaps she’ll be more comfortable waiting in the dining room while we talk.”

Carmilla nudged Laura, who was going to protest before seeing how serious Carmilla looked. She sent a final, what she hoped was piercing, look at Carmilla’s mother as she left. Lilita at least had the decency to wait until the study door closed and Laura’s footsteps disappear before she struck Carmilla hard.

“I said alone.” Lilita growled and Carmilla stepped back, cheek stinging but refusing to do anything that would indicate this.

“What do you want, mother?” Carmilla demanded. “You somehow managed to escape the Vordenburg situation unscathed. What could you possibly need now?”

“I recall being promised retribution by your wife. You’re to ensure nothing of the sort happens.”

“I can’t control what she does or doesn’t write.”

“Find a way.”

Carmilla stared into the eyes that she and her siblings all shared. They were dark, and cold, and Carmilla had feared them her whole life.

“No.”

This time, when her mother hit her, she staggered back into the wall.

“Stupid girl,” she growled. “I’ll destroy the lives of everyone you care about.”

“If you do that, I’ll expose everything,” Laura said, stepping into the study. Her eyes hardened as they met Carmilla’s, flickering to her bleeding cheek and then back to Lilita. “I mean it. I’ll make you seem disgusting, and diabolical, and evil. Basically, I’ll tell the truth.”

“You think you’ll be believed?”

“Do you want to find out?”

Lilita looked from Laura and to Carmilla. “Seems like we have a stalemate.”

“You don’t threaten Carmilla again. Or hurt her in any way. If you do, I’ll publish.”

“We have ourselves a deal, Miss Hollis. You can make your own way back to the airport.” She took a moment before leaving to sneer at Carmilla, who still had her back to the wall and was watching wide eyed. Her knees felt weak as the door slammed, and Laura appeared in front of her, both trying to cup her cheek and avoid hurting her.

“Are you okay?” she asked timidly.

Carmilla took a while before smiling. “That was amazing.”

Laura laughed. “I think I’m going to faint.”

Carmilla pulled her into a tight hug. “You just threatened Lilita Morgan.”

“Is this floor soft enough to faint on?”

“Where you bluffing?” Carmilla pulled back to see Laura, a guilty smile appearing on a face.

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“I have absolutely no proof of any criminal activities.”

Carmilla started laughing, pulling Laura back to her. “You’re something else, Hollis.”

Laura grinned. “Let’s go home,” she whispered. Carmilla nodded into her neck.

//

_Zero days_

“Happy divorce day.” Carmilla was smiling when Laura opened the door, but it lacked anything that Laura had seen for the past few months. She was wearing smart clothes and holding a paper bag. “Pastries to celebrate. Symmetry, and all that.”

Laura stepped aside to let her in, not saying anything. She had booked a divorce hearing months ago, for the day they were able. She hadn’t said anything to Carmilla about it, but hadn’t cancelled it either. She wasn’t even sure Carmilla would mention it, but she was here, and dressed for court, and smiling at Laura despite her chest feeling heavy.

“It’s at two, right?” Carmilla said, dolling out the pastries.

“Yes.”

“You’d better eat enough sugar to last you over lunch, then.”

“Carmilla.”

Carmilla looked at her, still smiling but with eyes that were sad. “It’s okay,” she promised. “Really, Laura. It’s okay. I’ll still be around, if you’ll have me?” Laura nodded earnestly. “Then it’s okay.”

“Okay.”

Breakfast was silent and stinted, neither knowing quite what to say or how to respond. Carmilla felt a profound amount of sadness, but was mostly grateful Laura still seemed to want her around. She would give anything to have Laura Hollis in her life, even if it wasn’t in the way she wished.

“We’d better get going, cupcake,” she said, looking at her watch. “Should probably make a better impression than last time.”

“Just don’t talk about our sex life and you’ll be fine.” Laura said, then instantly blushed. She remembered vaguely what had happened the night they celebrated, what she had done. She wanted to apologise, to explain, but with everything that had happened with Carmilla’s mother she never got the chance. She vowed to do it sooner rather than later.

Carmilla just sniggered. She opened the door for Laura and they both left.

//

Perry’s text had been vague and unhelpful. Carmilla wanted to go home, curl up with something alcoholic, and pretend for a second that she had kept her promise to Laura about not worrying about her heart. She did not want to go the Danny and Kirsch’s bar, but Perry had been adamant.

She swore to herself she would have one drink and save the rest for when she could be home and pathetic.

The bar was empty, there was a table for two in the middle with candles, and Laura stood at the counter, grinning but buzzing from nerves.

“Um?” Carmilla formed an incoherent noise as she tried fathom what was going on.

“I’m going to ramble,” Laura warned her. She was holding onto a stool like a lifeline. “And you need to let me. Because I have a lot to say and no idea how to say it. So you need to listen and not interrupt. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“When you said you were going to make me fall in love with you, I nearly laughed. The thought of even tolerating you was ridiculous. I figured there must have been a reason I thought it would be good to marry you that night, but just put it down to the fact you look how you look and speak how you speak, and I was drunk enough that it worked. Now I think drunk me knew exactly what I wanted, and sober me was dumb enough to try and let it go.”

Her grip on the stool lightened, and Laura moved so she was standing in front of it. Carmilla stayed frozen. “So I fought everything that told me you weren’t just some girl I accidently married. That told me that this wasn’t just some challenge to you, some goal you set out for yourself. That told me you wouldn’t make me love you then leave. And it was easy, to start with, because you are so annoying, and rude, and unable to be serious for too long. Then I realised you were all those things, but you were also kind, and accepting, and cared deeper than anyone I’ve ever known.

“And I did fall in love with you. I don’t know when, maybe it was instantly, maybe it was so gradual I didn’t notice. But I did. And I am.”

“Laura.” Carmilla’s voice broke, but she stayed standing where she was.

“I didn’t want to stay married to you because that wasn’t how I wanted it to go.” Laura continued. “When I marry you it will be sober, and not in Vegas, and you will have proposed because you’re chivalrous and seem like you’d like to do that kind of thing. And we’ll honeymoon, and slow dance, and you’ll complain about centrepieces because you don’t know what they are and will be too stubborn to ask. And it will be gross and lovely. But for now, Carmilla Karnstein, will you go on a date with me?”

Carmilla was so blindsided it took her a while to answer. “What?” It wasn’t her smoothest moment, and Laura’s panicked expression confirmed this. “Wait.” Carmilla tried again. “Use less words.”

Laura smiled, but the nerves were back. She approached Carmilla slowly, and took her hands. “I love you. Will you go on a date with me? Is that better?”

“Much.”

“So?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Did you ever doubt it would be?”

Laura kissed her, and Carmilla pulled her closer.

//

_The day after the wedding_

 “Stop,”

“I’m not doing anything, cupcake.”

“You’re blowing on my nose.”

“It crinkles.”

“Stop.”

“Wake up, Mrs Karnstein.”

“Hollis-Karnstein,”

“Wake up, Mrs Hollis-Karnstein. I have a honeymoon to go on.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Who did you marry?”

“Some girl. Hopefully for the last time. Was too stubborn to fully appreciate it the first time.”

“She sounds terrible.”

“I’m quite fond of her.”

“Five more minutes.”

“That stopped being cute an hour ago.”

“Tell me more about this girl.”

“Doesn’t seem to get the concept of planes leaving at certain times.”

“I can’t imagine why she didn’t appreciate you the first time, what with those kind words.”

“She’s the one who insisted we get married on the same day we did the first time.”

“You said it was sweet.”

“The word I used was sappy.”

“You’re pushing it.”

“It’s okay, you can divorce me again in eleven months and twenty nine days.”

“We’ll see.”

 


End file.
